Bloody Butterflies
by Rinari7
Summary: I wasn't thinking about my friends when I got my tattoos. Still, I can't deny that we're all at least a little messed up. (Jade-centric, with most of the group) [currently (regrettably) ON HOLD]
1. When Jade Got Them

**Author's Note:** I have never gotten a tattoo myself, and while I tried to do some research, if there are any inaccuracies/unsafe practices I accidentally included, please let me know and I'll fix them!  
This may turn into a multi-chapter thing (I have a few more ideas on the topic), but admittedly I'll have to see how much time and motivation I have available.  
I believe this still falls under the "Teen" rating according to the ratings description, but if any disagree I can change it to "M" to be on the safe side.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Cat came with me to get my first tattoo. It's not anything I've ever told anyone, and I made sure she didn't mention it. The girl doesn't really know how to keep secrets, but I've learned how to handle her. Distraction was better than prohibitions, and I kept the topic of conversation away from anything closely related to skin ink insofar as I could.

" _Jade! Jadey! They're putting my brother in that place again because he started cutting open our dog and telling me that I should—Aaaangh no it's bad I can't say it!" Cat was screaming into the phone when I picked it up, that panicked edge to her voice I knew too well.  
_ " _Shut up, Cat, I'm here!" My growls scared her a little bit, which was what I wanted. Otherwise she would've just continued screaming. "Shhh, there's a good girl. You want to go somewhere fun tonight?"  
_ " _That's what they said when they took my brother away to that special place where they tied him to the bed." She sounded petulant, wary. It was still better than before.  
_ " _Not that kind of fun. We'll both have fun. No drinks, no pills, nothing you don't want to do. I'll even take you to the Gorilla Club after if you don't like my fun place, and you can ride the rabbit. Deal?"  
_ " _Deal!"  
_ _I let out a small sigh of relief. There was her perky self again. "Bring your fake ID. Don't forget, Cat, if you want to ride the rabbit."  
_ " _I won't! I'll go find it right now!" A click marked the end of the call, before I could tell her I would meet her at the usual spot in half an hour. Oh well._

 _With a slight shrug, I slipped my PearPhone into my bag and lifted the strap over my shoulder. My house keys were on the dresser—_ this was all before I was old enough to drive legally, and grand theft auto plus driving without a license, even if it was just my mom's car, wasn't the sort of thing I cared to have on my record— _and I snatched them up before making my way downstairs.  
_ " _Is Mom home?" My little brother was glued to one of his video games with the volume turned way up.  
_ _Goddamn, I hate it when people ignore me. Killing the power to the television screen got his attention.  
_ " _Heyyy!" He shut his mouth, though, when I turned my glare on him.  
_ " _Is. Mom. Home?" I asked again, more quietly, through gritted teeth.  
_ " _No." Said with a scowl on his face. "She left a couple of hours ago." With a glance at my bag and jacket, "Where are you going? You're not supposed to be going out this late."  
_ " _None of your business. You're not supposed to be up this late, never mind playing—what are you playing?" It actually looked kind of interesting—at least the parts with blades and blood—but I had better things to do.  
_ " _Vow of the Brotherhood." One corner of his mouth twitched upward, then came a hesitant "You wanna play with me? It has multiplayer."  
_ _With a slight snort—I was still pissed—I shook my head. "Not now. I'm going out with Cat. Mom doesn't hear a word about it, got it?"  
_ " _Got it." He nodded once—he knew that otherwise he'd find the disc for one of his precious games snapped in half over my knee, or dissolved in a beaker of acid I'd 'borrow' from chemisty class.  
_ _I nodded and plugged the TV back into the wall. "See ya. Have fun."  
_ " _Thanks," he mumbled as he scooted closer to the TV to boot it back up._

Some people say that city buses suck. I never had any problem with them during the years before I got my driver's license. I go way too many places there's no way in hell my parents would drive me to, and one glare from me is usually enough for the creeps to stay away. I am Jade West, after all.

 _The stop near the school was our default meeting spot, so I got off there first. Cat wasn't there yet, so I pulled out my phone and searched for nearby tattoo parlors. "Blood, Sweat, and Ink—where we help you make your body your own. Sanitary, professional, and all about you."_ I tend to read aloud to myself when I'm alone. _"Sounds like exactly my kind of place."  
_ _A car stopped in front of me, and Cat opened the door. "Heeey Jadey! So where are we going?"  
_ " _It's a secret. It'll be a surprise." I winked at her.  
_ " _Oooooh! I love surprises!"  
_ " _Surprise? What surprise? Can I come with you girls?" Robbie's voice echoed out of the van. I was glad Cat got a ride—_ for some reason I've never been comfortable with the idea of her riding the buses alone— _but that didn't mean my gratitude was boundless.  
_ " _NO!" I screamed at him. "Cat, get out of the car. Robbie, whoever the hell is with you, turn around and drive. Now!"  
_ " _Okay, okay. We're going." He sounded slightly panicky, and I grinned. He wasn't my friend, which meant that I didn't have to feel guilty about making him jump.  
_ " _Damn, girl, you don't have to be so mean." I hated Rex's stupid fake-urban voice.  
_ " _Who is this girl, Robbie? Have you been hanging out with her?" A woman spoke as Cat climbed out. "Young lady, are you sure you're fine?"  
_ " _No, Mom, she's not my friend! I just… Cat just wanted a ride!" He was babbling a little.  
_ " _Bye Robbie's Mom! Thanks for the ride!" Cat shut the door to the car quietly, not responding to the question. Then she turned to me, grinning expectantly.  
_ " _Let's go." I jerked my head down the sidewalk and started walking. Cat scampered after me and tried to grab my hand, swinging it back and forth happily. For once I let her. I can be nice sometimes.  
_ _I did listen to make sure Robbie's mother drove away, and wasn't following us. She would've ruined my plans for the night.  
_ " _My brother said he was looking for puppies inside Sadie." Sadie was the Valentines' pet dog—a giant golden retriever who loved to slobber all over everyone. She kind of reminded me of Cat, actually. "Do puppies really come out of grown up dogs? Doesn't it hurt to have puppies inside of them?"_

I remember being completely astounded thinking Cat's parents hadn't given her "the talk" yet. Be that as it may, I wasn't going to be the one to give it to her. I wasn't too clear on the gestation period of dogs, either, but I wasn't going to admit that out loud.

" _Yes, puppies live in their mommies for a month or so before they come out."  
_ " _Like people babies?"  
_ " _Yeah." I wasn't quite sure what to make of the conversation."It reeeaally hurts when they come out. Not the good kind of hurt, they say."  
_ " _Yeah, that's what my mom said. About people babies. That's why she said..." Cat looked around and lowered her voice. "That's why she said I should never let a guy put his… thing… down there."  
_ _Clapping her hand over her mouth, she squealed. "Oooh, that was so bad to say! Don't tell anyone I said that!"  
_ _Relieved that I didn't have to worry about Cat getting accidentally knocked up by some wazzbag, I nodded and grinned at her—well, what passes for a grin for me, anyways. "Don't worry, I won't."  
_ _The sign was lit up in neon pink—like one of my highlights at the time. This was the place.  
_ " _In here." I tugged on Cat's hand as I pushed the door open.  
_ " _Blood? That sounds scary!" She hung back a little, but allowed me to pull her inside.  
_ " _It's for me. I'm going to get a tattoo." It was something I'd been thinking about for a while, though I still wasn't sure what I wanted to get inked. Glancing around the place offered lots of options, but they were all too cliché—devils, skulls, butterfllies, snakes, crosses… all very well done, some of them making me catch my breath a little, like the snake devouring a mouse—but cliché._

" _Oh, that's so cool! Can I pick it?"  
_ _I thought about it for a moment, but she would pick something too girly. And I didn't love her that much. "No."  
_ " _But I wanna..."  
_ _"NO, Cat! It's my tattoo!"  
_ " _You said this would be fun!" Her lower lip trembled. "Pleease?"  
_ " _No, Cat. You can watch, though."  
_ " _What do they do?"_

 _A young man emerged from the back of the shop. Early twenties, maybe, nice and toned, with tats down both arms—like you'd expect—an eyebrow piercing, and a nose stud in addition to those huge holes ringed with plastic his ears. He could have been hot, but the gauging just killed it for me. Who does that?_

" _Well, we have a needle that goes in and puts just a little bit of color underneath the first few layers of skin." He smiled as he looked at Cat, and I didn't know whether to like him for being nice to her or glare at him because he seemed like the kind of guy to have_ _that_ _sort of twinkle in his eye.  
_ " _Eeeew! That sounds gross. And painful."  
_ " _It hurts a little. Some people like it." Here he winked at me. I curled my lip. "So what can I do for you ladies?"  
_ " _I want a tat. I'm just not sure exactly what I want yet." I tilted my head up, running my tongue over my lips.  
_ " _You a tat virgin? Spur-of-the-moment thing? Breakup?" He tried to stay casual, but it was way too obvious he was fishing. Unfortunately, he looked to old to be scared off by the tactics that worked on insecure high school boys. Plus, him liking me might help him overlook the fact I didn't look quite eighteen like the ID I was going to show if he asked said I was.  
_ _Still, I rolled my eyes. "I've never had a tattoo before, but this isn't about a breakup."_

" _She and Beck have been together for almost two months! Nobody's ever stuck with her that long!" Cat giggles. "Besides me. She likes me."  
_ " _Cat!"  
_ _She started tapping her heel, which has always been a nervous tic of hers, and I knew she was still more shaken up than she let on. "So you don't like_ me?"  
 _"You're okay._ "  
 _She grinned. "I think you should get a butterfly!"_

" _A butterfly doesn't really seem like your friend's thing..." The guy looked me up and down. Combat boots, dark hair with blue and pink highlights, black clothes, lace choker—I'd teach him to try to predict me.  
_ _Besides, my grandfather's dead butterfly and moth collection was kind of cool. Dead butterflies…  
_ " _I know what I want. Do you have some paper and a pen?"  
_ " _Uh, sure."  
_ _I pulled Cat a little closer to me and whispered in her ear. She stepped back and looked at me with a frown. "That's creepy. And sad. The poor butterflies."  
_ " _Just do it!" She still stared at me with that same expression. I pat her head, once. "You get to draw my tattoo. You can even make it kind of pretty if you want."  
_ " _I guess." Taking the piece of paper and the felt-tipped pen the guy held out, she hunched over the counter and began to draw._

" _Everything okay?" He looked a little unnerved now, which pleased me.  
_ " _It's all fine." I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. "How much will it cost?"  
_ " _That depends on how long it takes. It's a hundred an hour."  
_ _I arched one eyebrow. "Kinda expensive."  
_ " _If you want it done right..." He shrugged. "Ink isn't cheap. Needles, neither and I hope you're willing to pay for that fact that I can actually do this chiz well."  
_ " _All right." I was still a little wary, but it sounded reasonable. I should've done a little more research before coming here, but it wasn't like money was a big deal. I had my own debit card that went into Mom's account, after all. And Dad was paying hefty alimony and child support checks, like a cheating bastard like him deserved. "Give me a guesstimate for a band around the top of the thigh, about yay thick." I gestured with my fingers.  
_ " _Maybe four hundred to six hundred. Depending on whether or not you want color."  
_ _"Can you just color the butterflies, Cat?" I called. "Not too much."_

" _Do you like this?" Cat held up the sheet of paper. I stared, then grinned—a real, wide grin this time. Say what you want about Cat, but she has a fantastic eye for visuals, and this was no exception. It was me to a "t". A ring of intertwining brambles, with various moths and butterflies caught on the thorns, wriggling their lives out. "I love it."  
_ _Cat squealed happily and jumped up and down.  
_ " _That's… a little disturbed. Who hates butterflies?" The guy scratched the back of his neck.  
_ " _Can you do it or not?"  
_ " _Yeah, I can do it. Uh, I'll need to copy your ID."  
_ _I held my breath, slipping Cat a piece of strawberry candy as he inspected it, finally photocopying it and handing it back to me without comment. At least the hundreds I'd had to shell out for it had been worth it._

 _Cat continued munching the candy happily while the guy set up the equipment. I watched carefully as he washed his hands and unwrapped a new needle out of the single-use packaging, pulling up my skirt and pushing down my stocking a little myself. I don't let anyone touch me any more than necessary. Other people are usually sweaty and slimy, or cold and clammy.  
_ _He started trying to make small talk as he wiped down my thigh with alcohol but a "Why are you talking? Stop talking." took care of that.  
_ _I let out a small hiss the first time the needle went into my skin—but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that made me feel something, the kind that made me smile, the kind I could stand up to and feel like a badass._

" _Oh, Jadey, doesn't that hurt? I can't look!"  
_ _The young man—I never got his name—didn't stop or look up, and I gestured for her to come closer. "I'll cover your eyes. I'm fine, Cat."  
_ _She let me gently close her eyelids and started humming happily. I was happy with that outcome. She had a good voice and could occupy herself like that for hours. Then she started singing. "The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round, 'round and 'round, 'round and 'round. The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round, taking my brother to the doooc-tor!"_

 _So she was still preoccupied with that. The second round ended with "taking Sadie to the doctor". I didn't particularly care about her dog, but I knew she'd be devastated if anything happened to her._

I remember the prick of the needle being almost hypnotic. It was nice, for once, to just sit back and let someone take care of me. To not have to do anything. To just feel. The pain was good. It gave me something to feel besides worry for Cat. I was Jade West—I didn't worry about anyone. I found out later that her parents had forgotten to give her her medicine for "traumatic events" which was why she wasn't as easily distracted as she usually was.

 _Cat grew restless after about an hour and a half, after which I agreed to play "Cat's Cradle" with her. I always carried a piece of string around just for that. It was something we'd been doing since we were little kids in the local community theater's production of "Annie" together. The name always made her laugh.  
_ " _Silly! I'm too big for a cradle! And anyone would fall through that cradle; it's made of string!"  
_ " _Well..." I pinched the X's, brought them outside, around, and then up through the middle, spreading my fingers. "No one could sleep on the so-called soldier's bed, either. I'd love watching them fall out of bed and wake up painfully as they hit the ground."  
_ " _Nuh-uh! 'Course they couldn't sleep, so they wouldn't try. The soldier's bed is made of string, too, silly! There isn't any wax in these candles, either!" She took the string from me again, reciting her lines in our own little ritual._

 _Eventually, though, her eyelids started to droop, and I could see the stress of the day coming back to kick in and haunt her. "I'm sleepy."  
_ " _Yeah, like that wasn't obvious."  
_ _She sort of hunched over in her chair and started snoring quietly. We were a lot alike in that respect. We both fell asleep easily and slept like logs. I think it was one of her escapes.  
_ " _Is she gonna—fall over?" The guy gestured with his free hand.  
_ " _No, she's fine." I kept my voice low. "Keep your voice down."  
_ " _If you say so." He gave her a couple of uncertain glances.  
_ " _Focus on my damn tattoo!" I was starting to get pissed again. It happens often.  
_ _He stared at me for a moment, then bent back over my leg with a muttered "Dang, girl."_

 _It took another two hours before he set the machine down and grabbed a tube of white cream.  
_ " _What's that?"  
_ " _Anti-bacterial ointment. Then I'm going to bandage it. Leave the bandage on for at least four hours."  
_ _He reached out to start rubbing it in, but I grabbed the tube from him. "I'll do it."  
_ " _You haven't washed your hands and I don't want you to move before I put this bandage on."  
_ " _Fine." I rolled my eyes as I gave him the ointment back.  
_ " _Thank you." I didn't like his tone anymore, but I just wanted to get it over with. He continued to talk as he wrapped a bandage around my thigh—keep it out of sunlight, wash it often, moisturize it often, don't soak it, takes three to six weeks to heal—and I listened, but grudgingly. As soon as he was done I stood, digging around in my purse for my wallet._

 _He kept looking at me and then at Cat as I swiped my debit card and entered my PIN. "How old is she? Looks like her bedtime was an hour ago."  
_ " _None of your business is how old she is. She's had a rough day, okay?"  
_ _He held up his hands in a surrender before hesitantly handing me the receipt, which I snatched. Feeling his eyes on me, I walked back to the chair Cat was sitting slumped on, and nudged her. "Wake up. We're done here."  
_ " _Blo—wha…?" Cat mumbled, looking up at me, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.  
_ " _We're heading out."  
_ " _Oh. Are we gonna go ride the bunny now?"  
_ " _You look like you're about to fall over. Why don't you just come back to my place and sleep?" The tattoo had taken longer than I expected, and I could tell I'd start getting grumpy if I didn't sleep soon, too.  
_ " _Oh. That would be good, too."  
_ _She leaned on me on the way home. I made sure she wasn't leaning on my hair—I hate that._

I don't like my mother much. She's never around and coddles my little brother to no end when she is. I hate her less than my dad, though. He's around even less, and married some skank exactly nine years and two months older than me, which means I have to endure her whining and her yappy little dog whenever I'm there. Not like he wants me there. He just kind of tolerates my brother and me when Mom drives us over there spouting some nonsense about "bonding time" with dear old dad.  
Like I said, I don't like either of my parents, but if I had to pick, Mom's okay. And she doesn't know all the details about Cat's family, or the sort of crap her brother pulls, but she knows Cat has some issues and is cool with her camping out at our place from time to time. I think she likes me hanging around Cat, thinking it'll "soften me up" or "teach me compassion and gentleness" or some other touchy-feely idiocy. Also, she's learned when not to push me.

 _I scowled when I saw Mom's car in the driveway and the light on. I was so not in the mood for her bullshit about "not being out at all hours of the night"-like she never did it. But I grit my teeth and unlocked the front door, partially dragging a half-asleep Cat in with me._

" _Jade Catherine West!" My mother used her I'm-being-stern-and-pissed voice, which had long since stopped scaring me. "Exactly_ _ **what**_ _did you think you were doing staying out so late and not informing me?" She stood up from the table, where she had papers spread everywhere._

 _Cat blinked slowly and tried to stand straighter. I ignored my mother's question, laying a hand on Cat's shoulder in a "keep quiet" signal she thankfully seemed to understand. "Cat will be sleeping here tonight. She had a rough evening. Her parents are taking her brother and the dog to their respective hospitals. We're going to go to bed now." It was a declaration, more than anything, as I pulled Cat behind me upstairs.  
_ " _G'night Ms. McDonegal!" Cat called to my mother. I didn't look back, but she didn't follow us upstairs. Cat could be useful sometimes._

Of course, I still caught it for coming back so late the next afternoon, after Cat's parents had come and picked her up. And then again when she saw where the debit card was charged to. Of course I didn't show her the tattoo, and she couldn't do much about it all after the fact. It was one more thing that just underlined how much of so-called authority is an illusion. She also told me that I might have a tattoo, but I'd better not get any more tattoos or any piercings. You can probably guess what happened after that.

 _I tossed Cat some extra shorts and an old t-shirt of mine to sleep in, then went into my bathroom to change the bandage. She followed me in, a little like a lost puppy dog.  
_ _I slapped her hand away as she reached out to touch it, though. "It's pretty. It's sad, but somehow pretty."  
_ " _Go to sleep."  
_ " _Okay."  
_ _Within two minutes, I could hear her light little snores—ironically, kind of like a cat's purr. I didn't feel like showering at that hour, so I just washed the place gently with a washcloth and then stole the antibacterial ointment and bandages I needed from the medicine cabinet in Mom's bathroom.  
_ _Cat was on the side of the bed I usually slept on, so I dragged her over to the other side before climbing into bed myself._

No, I'm not gay. Two friends can share a bed without doing anything, you know. Besides, I think it's a little obvious how Beck found out about it. I said I didn't tell anyone, didn't I?


	2. When Beck Saw Them

It was the day before Beck's birthday, the first time around. We'd been dating for ten months, two weeks, and five days.

" _This isn't a birthday present," I declared as I slowly pulled my shirt off. There wasn't a lot of space in his RV for me to fling my clothes around, so I just dropped it on the floor to join my socks. "I might like for this to happen again when it's, you know, not your birthday. Or mine."  
_ " _I think that can be arranged." He grinned.  
_ " _Depends on how it goes. I might also completely hate it."  
_ " _Never heard anything that would make me think you'd hate it."  
_ " _Yeah, and we all know how everyone else's opinions mirror mine."  
_ _He smirked, but his eyes stayed glued to me. I relished the feeling, for once, without words, but matched his smirk as I undid my belt and slowly shimmied out of my jeans.  
_ " _What's that?" He sounded a little surprised.  
_ " _What?" I wrinkled my forehead, my lip curling a little. I was trying, damnit, and he didn't have to break the mood. We'd been through all the relevant equipment in sex ed class._

" _I didn't know you had a second tattoo."  
_ " _You never asked."  
_ " _Well, I'd seen most of your skin by then."  
_ " _I've never been an exhibitionist about personal stuff."  
_ " _Your rebel star isn't personal?"  
_ _"Well, yeah, but that was—showing my mother she can't order me around. Saying nobody can. Hiding it would've defeated the point."  
_ " _Hey, you go sit in the corner when I tell you."  
_ _"Because I want to. No other reason."  
_ " _You're cute when you listen."  
_ " _Shut up!" I stepped out of my jeans and punched his shoulder. It wasn't a light punch, but he took it, and grinned a little more._

" _C'mere." He crooked his finger, and I stepped closer to the bed. "I want to touch it."  
_ _I held myself still as he carefully traced the brambles, and outlined the butterflies. I liked it.  
_ " _Who designed it?"  
_ _"I told Cat what I wanted, and she drew it."  
_ " _Somehow that doesn't surprise me._ _What does, though, is that you actually let someone touch you there for that period of time. I mean, you could call it kind of intimate."  
_ " _Are you jealous?" It wasn't something I heard often, since most boys were too scared of me for him to have to worry about someone else 'stealing me away'.  
_ " _Maybe a little. He got to before I did." It was good to hear.  
_ " _He was professional about it. I would've punched him senseless if he wasn't. And...well, I wanted to be able to wear a miniskirt and not have people able to see my tattoo."  
_ _He nodded. "_ _Did you get this at the same place you got the star?"  
_ _"No, different place. This one was the first that sparked the whole 'you're not doing anything else to your body' tirade from Mom."  
_ " _She's seen it?"  
_ _"Hell no. But she saw the charge on my card. And I didn't know if she let the place know I was underage. So I went to a different place for the star and my piercings."  
_ " _Ah." His finger wandered over the ink again._

I could be patient. Besides, it was… well, nice. It might sound stupid, but in that moment I felt like he was taking his time to get to know this bit of me that he hadn't seen before, and cherished it. That was the thing about Beck—why I loved him. He would love every part of me, no matter how weird or screwed up. Well, that, and the fact that he'd stuck around. Guys had never stayed around before.

" _You know, this might sound kind of weird, but this luna moth-" His finger ghosted over it as he spoke. "-kinda reminds me of you. You know, the light green, pale, a little weird, but still beautiful. And it's not trying to fly, not fighting to get off the thorns. You'd almost think it's kind of happy, in its own way."  
_ " _I—since when were you an art critic?" I had never really thought about my tattoo before then. It was just something I liked.  
_ " _And this monarch butterfly could be me, chilling there with Luna..."  
_ _I turned, laying back on his bed next to him, my feet still on the floor, and propped myself up to examine the tattoo as well._

I hadn't taken a good look at it in a while, though I had stared at Cat's drawing so often while the tattoo was still healing that I could give you a decent sketch of it by heart—nowhere near Cat's level of finesse, though. I still had her drawing in my box of the few things precious to me. On an impulse I had gone back to the shop the day after, and the guy hadn't thrown it away—I don't know why, but I was grateful.

 _"Yeah, I guess it could," I murmured. The monarch wasn't badly injured, with only a few small spikes protruding through its wings, and none through its body. It was facing outward, though, with its back to the brambles and its legs curled in, as if it wanted to impale itself—though it wasn't succeeding._

If you wanted to, you could see that as a metaphor for Beck. If you wanted. He had the most normal life out of all of us—two parents who loved each other and were plenty lax with him. He was good guy, sweet, kind, good grades. He knew what he wanted to do with his life—act—and didn't get distracted by any of the other things he was also good at, like singing or playing the guitar. He knew how to solve all the problems he had—the RV being a case in point. I think sometimes the reason he hung out with Cat and me and Andre was to get a taste of a life that wasn't quite so—easy.  
I mean, that's one way you could look at it.

" _Mmmm, sweetheart, I'm probably suicidal enough for both of us..." I murmured as I sat up, grabbing his head and pulling him to me for a quick kiss. That turned into a longer kiss, that continued as he shed his plaid overshirt, then his undershirt, and…_

Suffice to say that was the end of the conversation about my tattoo.  
But what he had said stuck with me. When Beck asked me several months later if there was any nickname it was okay to give me in private, I said "Luna". He smiled at that. I think he remembered, too.

After I went home, I took Cat's drawing back out and stared at it. I don't know if Cat had our little group in mind when she drew it, or if it was a subconscious thing, or if Beck's artsy interpretive mood was catching.

 _The most eye-catching butterfly was also the most damaged, with its body almost torn in half, twisted at an unnatural angle on the thorns, blood dripping down. Its wings were pierced enough that it was obvious it would struggle to fly, but the colors still shone clear._

I later learned it was a European Peacock Butterfly. Cat had drawn it almost to a "T". Leave it to her to know her butterflies. In a moment of delirium, I thought it could almost be one of her deranged self-portraits she drew in kindergarten—she'd shown me them once during the rare times I went to her house, usually when her brother was in the hospital.

 _The last two were black and yellow—different wing shape, but similar coloring. The larger of the two was trapped, pinned by the smaller, which was impaled over the larger on the spike going through the middle of the larger one's wing. The lower one might've been okay, but it seemed resigned to its fate, keeping the trapped wing flat. The smaller butterfly's wings were completely torn, and it was limp, weighing down on the wing of the larger one below it._

At the thought that this could be Andre with his grandmother—or God forbid, Robbie and Rex—I folded it back up and shoved it into the box in the hurry, slamming the lid shut and shoving it away from me.

 _I had bloody and dying butterflies on my leg. Not my friends. Not anything symbolizing my friends, or anybody else.  
_ _Sometimes I worried about how good Beck was for my mental health._


	3. When Tori and Andre Saw Them

The first time anyone from school—Beck and Cat weren't just "from school"-ever saw my wounded butterflies was when we were trapped in Beck's trailer. Shorts usually cover the tat, but I was l was lying on the floor and the shorts had ridden up. Andre was the first to notice, and I sort of wanted to slap him for what he said. I was too hot to expend any extra energy at the moment, though.

" _Jade, what's that on your thigh? Did your sweat make your shorts leak some of that black dye? Maybe it's ultra-concentrated weird or something, since you don't usually sweat."  
_ " _No! Stop looking at my thigh." Exhaustion made my voice lack some of its usual venom. After a moment I added, "It's a tattoo."  
_ " _What's it a tattoo of? Can I see it?"  
_ " _No."  
_ " _Hey, your star thing is cool. It's not like you're gonna get a crappy or cliché tattoo." I almost forgave Andre for his earlier remark about my sweat. Still, I'm not the type to show people personal stuff._

" _I want to see." Robbie was being obnoxious, as usual. "It would be nice to have something hot to take my mind off how hot I am."  
_ " _There are so many things wrong with that sentence, I am not even going to go there." Beck shook his head.  
_ " _I just meant-"  
_ _"Just be quiet, Robbie. You'll only make it worse." Vega—the younger Vega who possessed some modicum of talent—was almost cutting. I would have been proud, if I cared about her.  
_ " _Seriously, Robbie, I do not want to know if you think I'm hot." I curled my lip, and left it at that._

A few hours later, though, after we'd gotten out of that hellhole—literally, I swear it was as hot as hell inside the RV that day—the prospect of cooling off drove me towards the ocean. The prospect of encountering dolphins and other denizens of the sea, however, kept me out of any water that went over my ankles.

 _I continued to gulp water from the cold bottle I had retrieved from Beck's cooler, content to just get my feet wet and feel a little spray on my legs. I couldn't help that my eyes kept wandering over the water around me, checking for fins.  
_ _Vega—not the one no one likes, the other one, whom some people apparently like—noticed. "Did you know sharks only kill five people a year? C'mon, don't be a scaredy cat. There are no sharks here."  
_ " _I think shark teeth would feel good. I would relish the sight of one or two people here being devoured by one. That's not my problem. I just don't like the ocean. It's filled with trash and fish pee."  
_

 _She took a few steps away, a grimace on your face. "Geez, you don't have to spoil it for the rest of us."  
_ _I smirked at her, taking a few steps towards her, and she turned around, moving a little faster than was absolutely necessary to join Cat in a splash fight further offshore._

 _The water was about up to my knees. While I had to admit, it felt good, I was heading back to shallow water where I didn't offer anything much to so-called "friendly" animals. I had the misfortune, however, to be hit by one of those freak waves that are taller than the rest.  
_ _I swore, because now my shorts were wet, and I hate wet clothes._

Wet bathing suits are bad enough, but at least they dry in a timely manner. Cotton shorts stay wet and clammy for ages if you keep them on. So I had to lay them out to dry on my beach towel. Which meant that there was no longer anything covering my tattoo. Which meant I was going to grit my teeth and wade in up to my waist, and cling to Beck, because dorks like Trina and Robbie and people I abhorred like Tori did not have my permission to see my tattoo. Except Tori got to me first, before I could get to the deep water.

" _Finally decided to join us? Hey, Jade, let's see that tattoo!" She hurried over to where I stood in water up to my knees, trying to convince myself to go deeper.  
_ " _Get away from me!" I snarled, but she didn't pay attention. One of those habits of hers I hated.  
_ _She scrutinized the ink for several moments, then met my gaze again with her "weirded out" expression. It made her look utterly insipid.  
_ " _That is very disturbing," she said at the same time I asked her, "Are you done yet?"  
_ _We stared at each other for a second or two before Andre walked up.  
_ " _You two okay?"  
_ " _She insists on staring at me. I'm starting to question her sexuality," I leveled at Vega even as she sniped, "I now have further confirmation Jade has serious issues."  
_ " _What?" Andre looked back and forth between us. "Hell no. I am not getting into this."  
_

 _"She has frickin' dead butterflies on her leg!" The brunette gestured towards my thigh. "Tell me how that is not a sign of something wrong in her head!"  
_ " _What?" Andre looked down, tilting his head to the side and slowly frowning. "That's a little messed up, Jade."  
_ " _Why do you care?" I growled at him—usually I liked Beck's good friend, because usually he was cool. Not right now.  
_ _He held his hands up in a "surrender" gesture. "It's none of my business. It's a cool tattoo—I mean if you like it, why not?"  
_ " _Thank you." I rolled my eyes. Seriously, did everyone have to make such a big deal out of it?_

" _Hey, what's up?" Beck laced his fingers through mine, and I idly wondered what had taken him so long to get over here.  
_ " _Have you seen your girlfriend's tattoo?" Apparently the thing really got under Tori's skin. Of course that made me like it even more. Maybe I should flaunt it a little more often.  
_ " _Um… yeah?"  
_ _"Does that not give you any cause for concern?"  
_ _"No..."  
_ _The answer apparently exasperated Vega, who shook her head and walked away.  
_ " _You see why I don't like her, right?"  
_ " _Babe, let's not start this now."  
_ " _Yeah, c'mon Jade, Tori's cool."_

 _I took my hand out of Beck's to count the reasons off on my fingers. "She has no concept of personal space—I'm sure you remember the way she was practically groping me in the Asphalt Cafe the other day. She's already taken one lead role from me that an amateur didn't deserve. She's always trying to make me look bad—such as just now—I'm pretty sure she's after you, Beck—and you just go with it! And she can't just come in here and be friends with my friends and act like she belongs!" My voice was showing my agitation more than I had intended as it rose in volume._

" _Oh God, not this again. Jade, Jade, listen to me." Beck wasn't getting it. I hated when he didn't get it.  
_ " _Jade, you made yourself look bad with that stupid prank you pulled during the stage fighting class. But she didn't turn you in. And she helped you get back together with Beck. She can't want him that badly." Andre always stuck up for Tori. I was almost sure he had some sort of crush on her, even if he wasn't aware of it._

Sure, he had a point. And I knew I was overreacting. But I couldn't back down without losing face. I couldn't say what was really bothering me about her out loud, either, without looking like a wimp. Without people realizing I actually care about some things.  
You see, Victoria Vega was the girl everyone liked. She was just sort of naturally sweet and helpful. Hell, even I'd taken advantage of that once or twice. I might have been okay with her, though I still despise "sweetness", if I hadn't been introduced to her as "the new school star, the special girl, who was rubbing my boyfriend and smiling at him like that". Andre was already her BFF and champion from the start, and Beck was extra friendly to her.  
In the back of my mind was the idea that one day Beck might wake up, might realize that he should enjoy his life without having to deal with all of our problems, and I somehow knew Tori would be the girl he went to if that ever happened. And Cat was—well, she was sometimes more like a pet than a friend, but even the only girl I came close to considering a best friend loved Tori.

Simply put, Vega had already, within the space of a few months, put herself in the position to take most of the few people I sort-of cared about away from me, and I didn't seem to be able to stop her.  
That scared me.

 _"Jade, this was meant to be a nice day at the beach. If you're not going to play nice, then you can go sit by yourself." Beck pointed back towards our towels.  
_ " _Go play with your new crush, then!" I shouted at him. "Go!_ _Run_ _!"  
_ " _I don't have a crush on anyone, Jade. How many times do I have to tell you, so that you get it into that thick skull of yours?!" Beck shouted right back at me.  
_ _Water sloshed around Andre's ankles as he stepped back from us. "I'm just gonna, just gonna go over there..." We both paid him no attention.  
_ " _Maybe it would be easier to get into my so-called thick skull if you actually acted like that was true! If you didn't so obviously enjoy the attention._ _If you didn't invite them to hang out. If you didn't-"  
_ _"I'm a friendly guy. So sue me! If I wasn't,_ _we_ _wouldn't be together either._ _And nobody else could stand you._ _"  
_ _T_ _hat smarted. "Like I care if people like me!" But he knew me too well by now—I could hear the slight waver in my voice, and I knew he could, too. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me._

 _Still, I wasn't giving in. Not after that. So I turned my back and made my way down the beach, away from the group, and sat down in shallow water, letting it lap at my legs._

 _My butterflies were dark on the insanely pale skin I'd made sure to slather lots of sunblock on. Usually I wasn't into self-harm—more harm of others—but looking at it I wondered how the luna moth would look with a little more blood on it._


	4. When Jade Didn't Get Another

Author's Note: Again, I have never really kickboxed (though I did do some martial art the teacher called kung fu for a while), so if anything is wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it.  
This whole thing is turning out to be longer than I had expected, since I still have ideas. I can't promise how regularly I'll update in the next few weeks due to a hectic schedule, exams coming up, and a trip to a music festival that's been planned for months (Rockharz anyone?), but I'll try not to let you guys go too long without a new chapter.  
Thanks for the reviews and enthusiasm for my first fanfiction. You guys are great!

* * *

I fully intended to get a new tattoo when I told Beck about it.

" _Hey, babe." He leaned on the wall beside my locker. "Want to do a movie night at my place to_ _morrow_ _night?"  
_ " _I already have plans. Cat_ _wanted to_ _have a girl's night out,_ _back when Vega kissed Cat's boyfriend and we were sick, and she wouldn't stop bugging me about it until I promised_ _._ _Can we do Saturday instead_ _?" I unloaded the books I needed for my next two classes (and last of the_ _day_ _, thank God) into my bag before slamming the door shut.  
_ " _Sure. What are you girls doing?"  
_ _"I want to get_ _some_ _tattoo_ _work done_ _."  
_ " _Cool. What'll it be?"  
_ " _I was thinking_ _of putting some extra touches on my butterflies, and getting something new:_ _a burnt rose being snipped into little bits with scissors."  
_ " _Where?"  
_ " _On the side of my neck, with the stem curling around my neck and shoulder a little." Gathering my hair to one side, I traced the line vaguely from behind my right ear down and around the back of my neck.  
_ " _Cool." He nodded. "Should I tape that one Lifetime film you were interested in?"  
_ _"Yes,_ _please_ _. I have the DVR at home set up, but I don't know if Mom or_ _Jacob will tamper with it while I'm gone._ _Despite_ _the fact I plastered it with pink Post-Its specifically saying_ _not_ _to touch it."  
_ _Just thinking about it annoyed me. I wish my locker was open so I could slam it shut now, but I settled for simply pounding my fist on my locker door, in the one spot that was scissor-free. It had a dent there, accumulated from a great deal of previous abuse.  
_ " _All right. You and Cat have fun."  
_ " _I will." I pulled him close for a kiss. Then the stupid bell rang. Running my hand down his chest—_ yes, I like the fact my boyfriend has muscles— _I turned to head to chemistry class._

That evening, though, Cat wasn't too happy with the idea of going to a tattoo parlor again. I couldn't really blame her, but I wasn't happy about my plans being changed.

" _Jadeeyy." Her voice was high and nasally in my ear, so I held the phone at a distance. "I don't wanna go watch you get ink put under your skin again. That was gross. I wanna go sing. I heard there's this new place that does karaoke,_ _and it sounds really cool, and I want to go there."  
_ " _Last time wasn't_ _that_ _bad, Cat. Quit whining."  
_ _"I wanna sing, though. Singing's fun. You haven't s_ _u_ _ng with me in forever, Jade."  
_ _With a sigh—and an admission to myself that what she'd said was true—I said, "All right. Do you know the name of this club?"  
_ _"Karaoke-Dokie. Isn't that so clever?"  
_ " _Yeah. Really clever." I didn't really mean it, but sarcasm goes over Cat's head most of the time._ _I pulled my laptop over to where I was sitting on my bed, and quickly pulled up their webpage. "It looks decent. I pick the song."  
_ " _You always pick things!"  
_ " _Yeah, because you can never keep your mind made up for more than two seconds!"  
_ " _That's so true. This morning, I couldn't decide whether I wanted an orange or a mango for breakfast, and stood there for twenty minutes until my brother stuffed a banana into my mouth."  
_ " _You should've picked the mango. Mangos are the best."  
_ " _I know you like them best."  
_ " _Mhm. Okay, I've got to hang up now."  
_ " _Awwwww!"  
_ " _Cat, you need to work on your history presentation, and I've got stuff to write for Drama and Lit."  
_ " _I don't like history! I have enough to deal with with stuff that happens now!"_

" _Well, this is something happening now. Your history project. Go. We can't go and sing karaoke tomorrow night if you don't have everything done."  
_ " _Okay." Her tone was crestfallen, but I didn't really care. It was for her own good, anyways. "I'll go do it."  
_ _"Get Robbie to help if you need it."  
_ " _No!" I could hear the gasp in her voice. "I can't call him. I just can't!"  
_ " _Fine! I'll look over it tomorrow before we go to the club."  
_ " _Thanks Jadey!"  
_ " _How many times have I told you not to call me that?"  
_ " _I don't know."  
_ " _Well,_ _don't_ _!"  
_ " _Okay. Bye, Jade."  
_ " _Bye, Cat."_

 _I already had most of my script done. I also did about half of my essay on_ _Macbeth before going downstairs and trouncing my little brother at his assassin videogame. It would have been cool to do that sort of thing in real life, but I had already decided prison wasn't my thing. I do possess some modicum of restraint. Not much, though._

So that's how we ended up at Karaoke-Dokie on Friday night. And ran across those ganks. And participated in that travesty of a karaoke "competition".

" _That was so unfair! I thought we were gonna win. We were really good."  
_ _Cat was sniffing a little between her ineffective little growls, so I tossed her a pack of tissues, which she didn't catch. Her "special vitamins" made her slow on the uptake and over-emotional sometimes. Still, I was grinding my teeth, so I couldn't exactly criticize.  
_ " _I—I wanted to win. They were mean. And they weren't good! Anyone could hear that."  
_ " _I_ _know_ _! You don't have to remind me!"Out of frustration I blared my horn at the car in front of me, because the driver was fixing her lip gloss or_ _occupying herself with_ _some other inane_ _thing_ _instead of getting out of my way at a green light.  
_ " _And_ _you_ _don't have to remind_ _me_ _!"  
_ " _You_ _were the one talking about it, Cat!"  
_ " _Aaaugh!" Cat covered her ears, only taking one hand off them to wipe her nose on occasion. I sighed. A nice night out for both of us was turning out_ _to be utter crap_ _._

 _A_ _t my place I shoved Cat in front of the TV with my brother—she loved the little fairies in that Zelda game of his, and sometimes he let her play tennis on the Wii—and went up to my room to plot. In my world, we got mad, then we got even, and Cat wouldn't be of any help getting even tonight._

The idea for an audience-judged competition, with the untalented pair being tricked into picking a good singer disguised as an Ugly Betty as their opponent, came almost immediately. It took a while before I convinced myself that showing up those wannabes was more important than hating Tori Vega for the moment—even though she'd called me a gank the day before and Beck cared about whether she was around or not.  
The fact was, however, I wasn't on voluntary speaking—or even voluntary insulting—terms with anyone who could both sing and be made to look hideous. Andre could sing, but I didn't think even Cat could disguise him to look as disgusting as he needed to, and Beck—just no. My boyfriend in a vomit-inducing look was not anything I ever wanted to see, just because. And like I said, there's only so much you can do to try to hide "hot" and "cool".  
I was relying on Cat's support to convince Tori, though, since the brunette would probably be more than happy I'd been shown up. Cat and the fact that Vega probably didn't want to be stuck with her drama queen of a sister whom I didn't even want to imagine after getting her wisdom teeth out.

" _That doesn't sound very honest."  
"Well, was it honest to make us think the karaoke would be fairly judged when the guy just picked his daughter and her friend?"  
"I guess not… no, no it wasn't." Said with a firm shake of her head.  
_ _So I outlined the plan to her.  
_ " _How do we know they'll pick Tori?"  
_ _"We'll make her look like a total loser. You already made her look like a zombie, how hard can this be?"  
_ " _I can do that. But that still doesn't answer my question."  
_ " _Those two ganks will pick the person who looks least like they'll win. They'll want to win themselves, so they'll pick someone to go against them who they think sucks. Try to stay with me, Cat."  
_ " _I am with you! I got it now."  
_ _"Okay. Remember, you'll have to act like you don't know about Vega and who she really is."  
_ _"Her name's Tori. You might want to be nice to her tomorrow when she goes to sing."  
_ " _Yeah, whatever."_

My mother looked sideways at the three of us in the living room later—Cat using my makeup on Jacob to get a feel for how she wanted to do Tori up later, and me on the sidelines watching with a smirk. After being reassured that the stuff washed off—and that I had double-checked the warning on Cat's supplies—and that Jake was okay with this and I hadn't tied him down or threatened him in any way—she shrugged slightly and left us to our own devices.

My brother was happy to be made up as "the Thing" (apparently some kind of rock golem) afterward—his reward for his cooperation. Cat was happy to mess around with my hair later—under the stipulation she didn't do anything that couldn't be undone with a shower—and to have our own little dance hall and karaoke night in my bedroom. I was happy envisioning the girls from the club disgraced and humiliated, and snipping sheets of paper into various patterns before burning then with one of the lighters from my collection (accomplished while Cat was playing with my hair).

And I was nice to Vega the next day. I bought food, after Cat had convinced me frozen yogurt would be better than donuts. I should have known not to listen to that girl's advice on food.

" _What kinds of ganks are your parents, anyways, to saddle you with… that?" I jerked my head back towards the Vega house, which was rapidly disappearing in my rear-view mirror.  
_ " _Ja-ade! What did I say about being nice?" Cat's whine came from the backseat.  
_ " _What? It's just a question."  
_ _Vega sighed and shook her head. "I can understand that they don't want to deal with Trina while she's miserable. She's bad enough when she's feeling good."  
_ " _Why do you take it?" I couldn't fathom putting myself through that._

I don't mind taking care of Jacob when he's sick. Then again, it's an excuse for me to get out of school and have a parental note to show for it, and he's a docile little thing when he's feeling under the weather, mostly content to sleep the whole day.  
He's far better trained than Trina. She needed a good kick in the ass.

" _Well, what choice do I have?" Vega's tone was frustrated. "Dad will get pissed or ground me or something—probably take away my phone for a week—because I didn't do what he said."  
"So? There are ways around that."  
_" _Maybe for a chronic villain like you. I'm a good girl, Jade, and I like it that way."  
_ _"You try to be. And look where it gets you." I smirked and gave the road my full attention again.  
_ _Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her look slightly disturbed before she stared out of the window._

The coup went off without a hitch. The ganks fell for Vega's disguise, Vega was happy with me for getting her out of Trina-sitting, Cat was happy dancing, and I was left with mixed feelings about it all. After tossing Beck's keys back to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek, I left the club.  
I knew he wasn't happy with me for sticking him with that girl no one likes and everyone likes even less when she's miserable, but I hoped he'd forgive me. I'd have to think about how to make it up to him.  
At that moment, however, I was just glad my kickboxing gym was open 24/7.

" _Heya, tough girl." Aaron nodded to me on my way in. I just tossed my bag with my gear on the bench with a quick nod in his direction.  
_ " _Need to work something out on the bag? I've done it more than once myself."  
_ _"Shut up."  
_ _He just laughed. I had gotten used to the fact that I didn't scare most of the guys at the gym—then again, they were all about five or ten years older than I was. That didn't mean I liked it.  
_ _Tying my hair back, I forewent gloves and made a beeline for the punching bags at the back.  
_ _Aaron shook his head. "Just clean up the blood afterward, kiddo."  
_ " _Yeah, yeah, I know the drill."_

It wasn't the first time I had thrown myself at the bags or pads without gloves and come away with sore and bloody knuckles, and it wouldn't be the last.  
Eventually I sunk into that semi-drowsy state where my body operated on autopilot—right jab, left hook, roundhouse kick—and my thoughts wandered. That "zone" was as close to calm as I'd ever gotten. I tended to let my lips voice whatever thought came across my mind.

" _I can still beat any gank out there." Take a breath.  
_ " _At their own game." The bag swung back towards me. I met it with my heel.  
_ " _They just better watch out." Left cross. Breathe again.  
_ _"Eventually I'll figure out how to deal with Victoria Vega, too." I let my breath out, controlled, as I peppered the bag with a series of jabs.  
_ " _Whatever the hell her game is." I was Jade Catherine West, wasn't I?_


	5. When Jade Saw Tori's Wounds

" _So, how stupid do you still feel about the whole Ryder Daniels thing, Vega?"  
_ " _Uuuungh!" The brunette rolled her eyes and slammed the door to her house behind her. "Jade, if you say 'I told you so'_ _one_ _more time, I swear I'll-"  
_ " _Relax, Vega." I snickered, dropping my bag beside her couch and pulling out my pencil case and history book. "I like to gloat, but don't feel like wrestling you right now. As much as I know you'd love it."  
_ " _If you're implying what I think you're implying-"  
_ " _Shhh, Vega, you don't have to fight it." She opened and closed her mouth like a fish. Messing with her was so fun. "Anyways, we have a history project to put together." I tapped my pencil on the paper.  
_ " _I think Mrs. Yonders must hate me, to partner me with you."  
_ _She was starting to get on my nerves—well, more than her mere existence did anyways. "You think this is a walk in the park for me? Shut up and pull out your notebook so we can get this done! Faster this is over, the less we both have to suffer!"  
_ " _All right, all right, you don't have to be so bossy." She slowly sat down on the couch opposite from me and drew her notebook out with her insipid "insulted" look plastered over those absurd cheekbones._

Vega was actually an okay project partner. She wasn't constantly distracted like Cat, or distracting like Beck, or apparently concentrating on making me want to punch them, like Robbie and his doll. We made decent progress, as long as we concentrated on the material and not on insulting each other.  
Which was why I was insanely irritated when Vega's mother barged in the door, dragging a guy in by his lapels who was definitely not Vega's father.

 _Vega and I turned towards the door as we heard it opening. When Tori saw who it was, she groaned and leaned down on her legs with her face in her hands. I sat up a little straighter, intrigued.  
_ " _Mmm—ah, Gary, we don't have much time." Mrs. Vega was a little out of breath.  
_ " _I know. David's in a meeting, but it only goes for an hour. I have to be back at the station by then." He had apparently also… been for a run… or something… I wasn't stupid.  
_ " _Upstairs."  
_ " _I know. Um-" The man's eyes widened as he caught sight of me staring at him, a sneer on my face. "Hi, girls. Tori. Your mother and I were just-"  
_ " _Gary! Upstairs!" Mrs. Vega shoved at the guy, making him stumble.  
_ " _Uh, right. On my way. Bye girls!" I shook my head at him as he gave us an awkward wave.  
_ " _Gary's just here to pick up something, Tori, Tori's friend." Mrs. Vega had a strained smile on her face, her tone patronizing.  
_ " _I'm not her friend."  
_ " _I'm just going to show Gary where it is." And Mrs. Vega disappeared upstairs as well._

 _I waited twenty seconds for Vega to move, but she didn't. So I slapped the back of her head.  
_ " _Hey! What was that for?" She stared at me, a deeply disturbed look on her face, and a glint of desperation in her eye.  
_ " _I had to check to see if you were still alive."  
_ " _Well, I might as well be dead now. You'll talk about it at school, or tell my dad personally, and then he'll leave Mom. Trina will get even more unbearable, and… just… God! Could it have been anyone but you?"  
_ " _Really? You think your life will end because you mother is having an affair?" I snort. "That's one of the most pathetic things I've ever heard."  
_ " _Believe it or not, Jade, I care about my family, as messed up as they might be, and I want them to stay together."  
_ " _Well, it's stupid to care. You can't do shit about it." I knew, from experience. Not that I was going to say that, though anyone with half a brain could've figured it out from my Slap page.  
_ " _Yes, yes, I can! I can deal with Trina, look after her, and keep Mom's—thing—a secret, and keep Dad happy."_

I think that was the moment I started to understand Victoria Vega. Why she was such a chronic people-pleaser, helpful and cheery and all that chiz, and sometimes on my level of flipping out and physical violence. She thought everything would work out okay if everyone just liked her enough, if she kept them happy enough. It was her attempt at control.

" _Wrong, Vega. Your parents' chiz is their own, and you can't do a thing about it. So don't give a chiz."  
_ " _Well, I can't help-" She was getting whiny, and I was getting impatient.  
_ " _Shut_ _up_ _about it already. Besides, would it really be so bad? Just you and your mother? Or father, or whatever?"  
_ " _Just me and Dad? I… guess… not." At first I thought she was staring at me, but then I realized her thoughts were elsewhere.  
_ " _Hello, Earth to Vega." I threw my eraser at her. It only hit her in the shoulder, which disappointed me. I would have liked for it to land in her eye. "History project?"  
_ " _Right. Uh, okay, John Whats-his-face Booth-"  
_ " _Wilkes."  
_ " _What?"  
_ " _His name was Wilkes. John Wilkes Booth. Focus!"  
_ " _Geez, you don't have to shout."_

 _Both of us groaned slightly as distinct thumping sounds echoed from upstairs. I growled and closed my book. "I'm going somewhere else. I can't work like this."  
_ _Vega was still a little slow on the uptake. "We have to finish out project. This is the only time we have to really sit down together before it's due!"  
_ " _I_ _know_ _that. I wasn't talking about stopping work, just moving location."  
_ " _Well, where would we go?"  
_ " _Dozens of places. Library, coffee shop, the school, even..."  
_ " _Okay, well, I-"  
_ _"Let's go to JetBrew," I interrupted her. "They have free WiFi and I'm gonna need a looot of coffee if you're going to continue being like this."  
_ " _Like what?" She sounded vaguely insulted.  
_ " _Slow. Distracted. Not keeping up with me."  
_ " _You could cut me a little slack here, Jade!"  
_ " _Why would I do that?" I slid my book and papers into my bag and stood, shouldering it. "Let's go. I'll drive."_

Vega still seemed a little "out of it" on the way there, so I was glad I was the one driving, but she was able to pull herself together a little, which I was grateful for. I got my usual coffee, black with two sugars, and she got a mocha latte. The rest of the project went relatively smoothly, without talk of any subject other than history.

" _Guess that's it. See you tomorrow, Vega." I slung my bag over my shoulder and downed the last of my coffee. "This didn't suck as much as it could have."  
_ _Tori stood and pushed her chair in, taking a deep breath. "Please don't tell anyone about what you saw. About… my mother and all."  
_ _"Why would I?"  
_ _"_ _Because you're—you, Jade._ _"_ _Vega helplessly let her hands fall on the back of the chair._ _"_ _Please._ _"  
_ " _I make no promises I'm not sure I intend to keep."  
_ _She crossed her arms, moving to stand in my way. "I'm not letting you leave until you do."  
_ " _That's stupid." I tossed my coffee cup towards the trash can. It landed right in the middle of the bin, much to my satisfaction. "What's stopping me from saying I won't and then just doing it later? Besides, it's not like you're that hard to walk around."  
_ " _I'd tell Beck you broke a promise to me."  
_ " _He's not my guardian."  
_ " _But he means something to you."  
_ _"I am not having this conversation." Brushing past her, I shoved her shoulder with mine on purpose._

 _She grabbed my wrist, pulling me back towards her.  
_ _I turned, my other hand clenched into a fist. "Let go of me."  
_ " _Not until you promise me."  
_ _Some of the other customers were staring. I glared at them before turning back to Vega. "If you're worried about me using it against you, you're completely justified in that." I grinned mirthlessly, just to scare her. "But in case you haven't noticed, I like to make my revenge fit the crime. And I can't think of a thing you could do for which announcing your family problems would satisfy me. Happy now?"  
_ _Yanking my arm away from her, I stalked towards the door, drawing my scissors out of my waistband and angrily snipping at the air with them. A shaggy-haired hipster walking into the cafe skirted me with widened eyes._

 _I heard Tori's boots clicking on the pavement behind me as I walked across the parking lot. Not in the mood to deal with her any further, I broke into a run.  
_ _Sliding into the driver's seat of my car_ _and_ _locking the doors, I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat and took my time getting my keys out_ _as Vega banged on the window with the flat of her hand. Her voice was muffled through the glass.  
_ " _Jade, let me in! I need a ride home."  
_ " _You can walk," I mouthed at her, starting the engine. She stepped back, a look of disbelief on her face.  
_ _It was satisfying to watch her frustrated and helpless in my rear view mirror as I pulled out of the parking lot and merged into traffic._

I got an upset call from Beck later, as he was apparently the one she called to come pick her up.  
I got upset right back, because he didn't have to jump to her aid every time she cried or looked at him sideways, and he hadn't been so annoyed I didn't give her a return ride that night his dad got mauled by the Rottweiler we got him. He got really pissed at that, and we were huffy at each other for a few days. I spent most of them with Cat, though I didn't really forget about my conversations with Tori.  
I remember thinking two things: that I do know how to keep secrets, and that maybe Vega wasn't such a misfit for our disturbed little group after all.


	6. When Andre's Issues Show

**Author's Note:** I was away the past several days at a music festival without computer or Internet, so I was unable to update. I hope you'll forgive me, and that you enjoy the new chapter.

* * *

" _You fucking volunteered me? What am I, your slave to loan out whenever you want?" I would have threatened anyone else with my scissors at this point, but this was Beck, so he had ten seconds to explain before I pulled them out.  
_ " _I didn't volunteer you. I said you probably wouldn't mind helping him out, and that he should talk to you. Did he?" Not intimidated in the least, my boyfriend leaned against the locker above his.  
_ " _Yes, which is why I'm here!"  
_ " _Will you help him?"  
_ _"Yes, but that's not the point!"  
_ " _The_ _point_ _is that I suggested to my friend where he might find good help with his song." Beck's tone is patient as always. "You would have been offended if I had suggested anyone else besides you instead, as well."_

 _I cracked my knuckles. I loved the slight pain, the popping sound, and it was something to do while I was thinking of a good response.  
_ " _Come on, you know I'm right. Give me a make-up hug now." He adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and held his arms out. With a slight huff, I stepped into them, and Beck pressed a kiss to my temple.  
_ " _You're a great writer and singer, babe. Who better to help him with lyrics and record it?"  
_ " _Flatterer," I mumbled into his chest._

Still, by the time I got to the music room after school after three hours of rehearsal for Sikowitz's latest play, I was pissed again. Sinjin was nursing an injured butt from sitting on my scissors, and a sore shin from where I kicked him in revenge. I was nursing my poor bent scissors, but it wouldn't fix them, so I eventually speared a—something-or-other hanging on the wall with them, and Beck knew enough to stay out of my way.  
The fact that Andre barely had any lyrics didn't improve my mood.

" _I was told I'd be helping you finish and record your song. Not write the entire thing."  
_ " _Jade, you think I'd ask for help if I could do it by myself?" He took several steps back, keeping the keyboard between him and me.  
_ _I huffed, slinging my bag on the floor. "Just show me what you've got."  
_ _He always looked more comfortable with an instrument. Natural habitat and all that. The instrumental part of the song was fantastic, but what little he had of the lyrics was horrifyingly generic.  
_ " _Dude, the music is slow and intimate. The word 'babe' does not belong there. This is not a cliché pop song. Advanced Songwriting. Keyword:_ _advanced_ _."  
_ " _I didn't know what to write, Jade!" He got this slightly frantic note to his voice that I'd noticed in his grandmother's as well when she was flipping out. Which was pretty much always.  
_ " _We've established that. Now let's try something new. Start with the chorus. That's the core of your song, anyways."_

An hour or so yielded nothing. I relented and told him to write whatever he felt like, verses, chorus, bridge, whatever, as long as he was actually writing something. His grandmother chose that moment to interrupt.

 _The ringtone split our frustrated silence, both of us raising our heads from out respective notepads.  
_ " _Ah, I gotta take this." Andre flipped open his phone. "Hi Grandm-"  
_ " _ANDRE!" I could hear her voice easily as I sat behind the piano across from him, and he winced, holding the phone away from his ear. "ANDRE! WHERE ARE YOU? THERE'S A BUNCH OF WORMS IN MY REFRIGERATOR!"  
_ " _Grandma, that's just-"  
_ _"ANDRE! I'M AFRAID THEY'RE MAGGOTS! THEY'RE GONNA EAT ME!"  
_ " _GRANDMA, THAT'S JUST SPAGHETTI! I MADE IT FOR YOU FOR DINNER!" Now Andre was shouting, too, and I shot him a glare, bringing my hands up to my ears to shield them.  
_ " _OH. YOU WANT ME TO PUT THEM IN THE WARMING BOX?"  
_ " _Yes, Grandma. Turn the dial to '1'." He had apparently gotten the message, lowering his voice again.  
_ " _OKAY ANDRE! WHEN ARE YOU GONNA BE HERE?"  
_ " _I don't know, Grandma. I told you I gotta finish my song for school. I don't know how long it's gonna take. You might have to put yourself to bed tonight."  
_ " _BUT WHO'S GONNA CHECK UNDER MY BED FOR MONSTERS?"  
_ _Andre sighed. "I'll try to be there before you go to bed, Grandma. Just eat your dinner."  
_ " _OKAY ANDRE."_

 _He hung up, a slight grimace flashing across his face, but only for a moment. "Sorry about that."  
_ _I shrugged slightly. "What do you want to do about it?"  
_ " _I don't want to do anything. I love her. She's my grandma."  
_ _I hadn't intended my previous (rhetorical) question to be any kind of criticism or suggestion, but let him take it however he wanted to. "You don't have to pretend."_ I wear my cynicism proudly.  
" _I'm not pretending!" He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. "What can I do so people will believe me? Not everyone is like you, Jade."  
_ " _I just think they won't admit it. But sure, keep deluding yourself."_

 _Shaking his head, he set his fingers on the keyboard and played the melody to the verse. "Da-da, Da-da, Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm mistaken for a deeper scar, A hole in your heart, And the same for me..."  
Trailing off, he scribbled the few words down.  
_" _Not bad."  
_ _"Yeah. It's not a whole verse, but..."  
_ _"Play it again. Maybe we can add something."  
_ _He nodded, settling his fingers on the keys again.  
_ " _So there, you are, mistakenly mistaken for a deeper..." I broke off my halfhearted song with a shake of my head. "God, that's crap." I could feel my cheeks heat up at having spouted that, in front of a semi-cool guy like Andre no less. Damn my Irish grandmother for passing on her insanely pale skin, so my embarrassment is impossible to hide.  
_ " _It's better than nothing." He shrugged slightly. "I'll put it down and we can change it if we think of something better."_

 _Grudgingly, I sort of hummed the words, but nothing new came for me. I've never been able to put words to music too well, unless it was metal.  
_ " _And the same for me..." Andre sang the last part of the verse we had, continuing with just a hum as he found no more words. "Dang."  
_ " _Well, cursing won't get us anywhere—wait, did they say anything about the rating of the song?"  
_ _Andre shook his head. "No, but I'm not putting any cuss words in my song. I don't want 'em there, and like you said, this song is slow and intimate. You gotta be gentle." He added, hesitantly, "As much as you can, Jade."  
_ _I felt my nostrils flare in irritation. "I can be gentle." Nobody gets to predict me.  
_ " _'Course you can. I'm sure you are with Beck." His tone was flippant, as if he wasn't intending to continue that conversation. His fingers glided across the keys as he hummed again. "Is everything you touch keeping you down, or setting you free?"  
_ " _Works for an end to that verse. Do the bridge now."_

I had hoped to come up with something good for the bridge, something sweet and gentle to prove I could, but nothing really came. He didn't do too well either, though, until his grandmother called again, up in arms about a spy drone in the house (new flash: it was a fly). Then he spouted something about the sun and birds and dreams, sounding slightly psychedelic. It worked, though, for a somehow surreal love-ish song. You'd almost think he thrived on his grandmother's craziness.

 _Andre's phone rang for the third time during our session that night.  
_ " _Grandma, what is it now?"  
_ _"ANDRE! IT'S TIME FOR BED! WHERE ARE YOU?"  
_ " _I'm still at school. I have to finish my song. You're gonna have to tuck yourself in tonight."  
_ " _BUT WHAT IF THERE ARE MONSTERS UNDER MY BED?"  
_ " _Grandma, remember what I told you about using a flashlight? Stand by your dresser and shine the light under the bed. You see anything?"  
_ " _HOLD ON! I'LL GO GET A FLASHLIGHT!"  
_ _Andre grimaced slightly, avoiding my eyes. I crossed one arm over my chest, tapping my pencil on my notepad and trying to ignore the freakishness. Even my nine-year-old little brother didn't need anyone to check under his bed anymore.  
_ " _I GOT A FLASHLIGHT, ANDRE!" Did the woman have a volume dial at all?  
_ " _Okay, Grandma, stand by your dresser. Turn the flashlight on and point it under the bed. Do you see anything?"  
_ " _NO! I'M BLIND! THE FLASHLIGHT IS SHINING IN MY EYE!"  
_ " _Turn the flashlight around, Grandma!"  
_ " _OH. NO, I DON'T SEE ANYTHING!"  
_ " _See, Grandma, so there are no monsters under there."  
_ _I just shook my head and put my head in my hands, laying it down on my lap.  
_ " _I GUESS SO!"  
_ " _I'll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast, Grandma."  
_ " _OKAY ANDRE! GOOD NIGHT!"  
_ " _Good night, Grandma."_

 _Beck's best friend set his cell phone down on the keyboard and stared at me. "You don't have to be so subtle." He spoke sarcasm—one of his good points.  
_ " _Hey, I could have shouted back at her."  
_ " _Yeah, you could've. You could've also shown a bit more respect."  
_ " _Yeah, I know she lost her mind." My mouth twitching, I looked down at my notepad. It the most of an apology he'd get from me. "So how about the other verse? Do we want to add something about how the speaker first met this other guy? Some mush about everything being worse when they're gone, so fucked up, not sure if the whole relationship is wrong or right..."  
_ _"I thought this wasn't supposed to be cliché." He leaned back in his chair, looking at me.  
_ " _There's a difference between being cliché and using tropes. Look it up sometime."  
_ _He sighed, loudly. "I_ _guess_ _I could make something out of that."_

And he did. It was slightly awe-inspiring to see the song take shape in front of me. He could take an idea and unravel it and weave the threads into something familiar, but still new, still his own. I swear, the boy was a magician with an instrument and a few words. A little like Beck with his roles. Just a little.

But then his muse dried up again, from one moment to the next. He had a song, almost, but without a chorus. A song with a huge, gaping hole in it. I tried my little trick that sends tingles up and down your fingers and across your palm. It always helped Beck to refocus, but Andre wasn't Beck. It didn't do shit.  
Finally, I just decided to push him.

" _Uh… my favorite letter's J. Tuna fish filet; I'm gonna wash my dog with some blue shampoo."  
_ _The melody thrummed through my head. The rhythm. If I changed it up a little, just a little, it might fit…_ "It" being a short poem I had written a long time ago, back when I first decided I was okay with being in love with Beck Oliver.

 _For once, I acted on am impulse, ignoring my instinct to keep this locked away like most of my other personal things. I took pity on him, if you will. The song was due within two days and counting, and he was Beck's best friend.  
_ " _Let me try something. Record me." I had to concentrate on keeping my voice steady and slow as I sang. Still, a rasp crept in as I thought about Beck, and tried to avoid choking on my words.  
_ _I thought I successfully kept my own expression neutral as I took off the headphones again, ignoring the "Oh God why did I just do that" running through my head, the words beating a sharp staccato in time with my pulse._

" _What did you think?"  
_ _Andre simply stared at me. It took me a moment to decipher his expression. Shock and admiration. It felt good. It wasn't an expression I had seen in a while, to be honest—people tend to get used to you having talent, once you've shown them a few times—and it was nice to have it directed at me again.  
_ " _You like that?" I grinned. I couldn't help myself. But everyone knew that what happened at night at Hollywood Arts stayed there, so I let myself smile for real.  
_ " _Mmmm-hmmm." His voice sounded slightly choked. He still looked stunned. I felt a little smug, but I just dipped my head and nodded, still trying to process how it felt—to be a little less prickly, a little more personal, and a little more appreciated because of it._

Things moved smoothly for the rest of the evening. Andre never quite lost the shell-shocked look, but we recorded several decent takes, and then headed our separate ways. Andre mixed them on his own, and then e-mailed the song to me later (though he was really strange about not wanting to listen to it together). I was happy with it, which doesn't happen often.

His e-mail that accompanied the song, though, was almost indecipherable. It looked like he had just rattled it down and hit "send" without bothering to give it a second glance.

" _Hey, Jade." I read it aloud to myself sitting on my bed with my laptop open.  
_ " _Hope you like it. I mean, I know you don't like much. I think you did real good. Actually, I think you did fantastic."  
_ _I shook my head, muttering to myself. "Andre thinks everyone is fantastic, even amateur Tori Vega. That says nothing."  
_ _I resumed reading. "That doesn't mean that I like you or anything. I mean, I like you. I think you're cool and all. You're a great friend. Thanks for helping me with my song. Well, it's kind of your song, too, since you came up with the chorus and all. I didn't know you could write song lyrics like that. They were real sweet. I didn't know you could be anything besides scary. You should do that more. Be sweet, I mean."  
_ " _Really, Andre? The hell does this have to do with the song? He was being so weird earlier." I cracked my knuckles idly.  
_ " _But I like it when you're not sweet, too. I mean, I don't really like it, but uh anyways I hope you like the song and thanks again. For helping me. Thank Beck for suggesting you should help me I can't do this." I slowed and reread the last line just to make sure I had it right. "The hell?"_

 _It wasn't signed; he had remembered to attach the file, though I didn't open it immediately.  
_ _His Slap page was also plastered with weirdness. "I have nothing to talk about this week. Nope. Nothing. I don't have a crush on anybody! Stop asking me! Ahhh! I'm going wonky over here!"_

 _I shook my head. "Probably just some of his grandmother's crazy leaking onto him."_

It had happened before. His grandmother's bad days meant Andre's bad days, and sometimes when he was feeling especially stressed I could see the familial and mental resemblance. I never said it to his face, though. The "wonk," as he put it, usually cleared up within a week or so, tops. So I assumed that was what happened.

He looked at me strangely the next few days, especially during the concert that Friday night, but it wore off and I never paid it any mind. After all, anyone with a crush on me would have to be really messed up.  
And yes, I'm aware of what that says about Beck. The statement is still valid.


	7. When Jade Dines with Beck's Family

" _Should I even ask why you're in my RV?" Beck stepped through the door, taking a moment to survey the room, and I frowned.  
_ " _I hate you being sleepy and irritable."  
_ " _What does that have to do with you being in my RV, again?" He looked adorable when he was trying to connect the dots. "And why does it look like a tornado came through here?"_ _He rubbed a hand over his face. Rehearsals for him had gone long this afternoon, but I was hoping to be done before he got back. "More than the usual Jade-nado, anyways?"  
_ " _Do I have a new nickname?"  
_ " _Maybe. If you don't help me put this back up. Seriously, you pulled all my clothes out of my closet?"  
_ " _I was looking for that damn cricket," I muttered, grabbing several of his shirts off the floor and flinging them at him. "Those are clean."  
_ _Beck inspected them for a moment, then brushed off a few dead leaves I must have tracked in. "Not anymore. How many times have I asked you to take your shoes off at the door?"  
_ " _You thought I was going to squish a bug with my bare foot?"  
_ " _So that's what this was about?"  
_ " _Yeah." I picked up two pairs of jeans from the floor. "Should I toss these back in the dresser, or in the clothes hamper?"  
_ _He ran his hands through his hair. God, I loved it when he did that. It gave him this laid-back, sexy air. "We'll take everything here back to the house to wash it all. I know I don't vacuum in here half as much as I should."  
_ " _Probably why you got that insect in here in the first place."_

" _Hey, hey, come here a moment."  
"What?" I was annoyed I hadn't managed to surprise him with something good, and pissed that now I had this huge mess to clean up.  
_" _Just come here."  
_ _With a huff, I stepped closer to my boyfriend, and he set his index and middle finger under my chin and tipped it up to kiss me.  
_ _When we were done—_ and believe me, that took a while— _he smiled at me. "That was nice of you."  
_ " _What?" I crossed my arms over my chest, still gripping the pants.  
_ " _Trying to find and kill the cricket."  
_ " _Oh. That." I would have cracked my knuckles, but I was still holding the jeans. "Yeah, that. Well, like I said, I hate you being sleepy and irritable. And I wanted to see bug blood. And it keeps me up, too, when I want to sleep here."  
_ " _I appreciate it."  
_ " _You're welcome," I mumbled, and he kissed me again, light pecks that left me wanting more._

" _Let's clear this place out properly, and then we can head up to the house for lunch. My mom said she was making sweet honey mustard chicken." He grabbed a laundry basket, propping it on one hip and starting to load clothes from the floor into it.  
_ " _She said?" I tossed the jeans I was holding into the basket, picking up more clothes from the floor.  
_ " _Well, I smelled it kind of wafting out of the kitchen window."  
_ " _Right." I kissed him again on the lips. "Let's go, then. That is, if your dad doesn't try to murder me on sight. I don't know exactly what I said, but he didn't like me much at Thanksgiving."  
_ _Beck Oliver laughed, lacing his fingers through mine and pulling me out of the RV and towards the door of his parents' house._

I think sometimes Beck like parading me in front of his parents on purpose, to get a reaction from them. In some of those pop psychology books they say that sometimes little kids will act out, be "bad" just to get any kind of focused attention at all.  
Well, if I ever saw anyone like that, it was Beck. I would have killed to have his parents: logical, laid-back, minded their own business and let Beck do his own thing. Sometimes he enjoyed it, and sometimes it seemed like he really wanted a little more attention, a little more discipline from them, a little something to complain about like everyone else.  
I was guaranteed to get a rise out of his father. I know he used me on occasion. I don't mind. I've been known to use him on occasion as well.

" _Beck, talk to my mom for me." I handed him my ringing phone once we were out of his RV.  
_ " _Why?" Still, he adjusted the laundry basket on his hip and took my phone. I was a little sorry we were headed into his parents' house, since he looked damn sexy like that, but his mother made fantastic chicken.  
_ " _So you can tell her I'll be sleeping over here tonight. She likes you, and she trusts you."  
_ " _Yeah, big mistake." He quoted me with a grin before lifting my phone to his ear.  
_ " _Yes, Mrs. McDonegal. Hi, this is Beck. I just wanted to ask if you were okay with Jade staying the night at my place. She's helping me with a project. All right. You have a good day, too."  
_ _He ended the call and passed my phone back to me. "We're good to go."  
_ _I thanked him with a nod, pocketing my cell phone again.  
_ " _HEY, MA!" Beck yelled as he unlocked the door. "JADE AND I ARE HERE FOR DINNER!"  
_ " _Thanks for the information so early!"His mother shot him a sideways look as she carried a dish of broccoli out of the kitchen into the dining room. "Good thing I was planning on having leftovers to eat for a few days, because I am not going to start cooking again now. You two can help set the table."  
_ " _I got some laundry to wash, Ma. Jade can help."  
_ _I shot him a look, but headed into the kitchen._

I'd been there often enough to know where all the silverware was, and I set the table quickly enough. My parents insisted on propriety enough for me to know how to set it fancily, too. His mother always liked that. It didn't earn me any brownie points now, though. Thanksgiving was still too fresh in their minds.  
His father still hadn't forgiven me for the Rottweiler incident either.

" _I hope you didn't bring any dogs this time, Jade."  
_ " _No, but I was thinking a German Shepard would make a good Christmas present," I deadpanned.  
_ " _I certainly hope you aren't, young lady. I've had more than enough of your taste in dogs. It'll last me a lifetime." He reached for a second helping of chicken, the tooth scars on his arm showing.  
_ " _Beck might not. Have you, babe?" I grinned at him, maliciously for his parents' benefit. He squeezed my hand under the table.  
_ " _Well, seeing as how I never really got to enjoy your taste in dogs in the first place..."  
_ " _Don't expect me to come out and help you repair your RV if that happens. And the dog doesn't come out in the yard." Beck's father looked to his wife for confirmation before nodding his head and reiterating his last thought. "And the dog stays inside your RV."  
_ " _That sounds practically cruel for such a large dog, though." I continued to bait them a little before felt Beck nudge my leg with his own, his signal that that would be enough.  
_ " _Well, that's on his head, then." His father shrugged a little and lifted a forkful of broccoli and cheese to his mouth._

Beck runs hot and cold as far as conflict goes. Sometimes he thrives on it—I can see the light of battle in his eyes and he kisses me with so much more vigor afterwards. Sometimes he loves all the eyes on us in the school halls when I throw one of my hissy fits, and I can hear that happy, playful, patient undertone in his shouts, or in his easy, laid-back responses.  
Other times he seems tired of it, preferring to pacify me as soon as possible, as if realizing that his life could be so much easier. Then he gets tired and irritable as soon as I say anything contrary, gets this pouty look on his face. Of course then the fights escalate because during those phases I get more worried he'll leave me, which makes it seem he'll be even more likely to leave me because the fights escalate, and so on and so forth.  
Really, he knew what he was getting into when he started dating me. But sometimes, I humor him.

 _I grabbed my glass of water and downed a sip. "I'm trying to convince the school to put on a play of mine."  
_ " _Your last one was excellent." Beck's mother was eager to move on to a different subject than canines. "I can understand why the school didn't want to produce it, though. It was quite dark. Not necessarily something for the younger students. And rather… surreal."  
_ _I ground my teeth at the memory of those mutilated performances. I gave Vega a chance to earn my gratitude,_ _my amiability like she apparently so desperately wanted,_ _and she fucked it up. I should never have given in to the pressure to stick with that freakish Chinese lady and her money, but at the time I was out of favor with my parents, at least more so than usual. Beck nudged my leg again._

" _It wasn't written for 'younger students.' I only felt like a more adult audience could truly appreciate it. I'll know to take more care in choosing a sponsor for any of my work ever again, though."_ _I'm sure some of my resentment bled through in my voice.  
_ " _Was there an issue with the producer?" The lady opposite me arched an eyebrow. Beck blew out a breath before quickly swallowing his food, probably anticipating my irritation. He'd heard many rants on the subject before.  
_ " _She was the source of most of the 'surrealism'." I added air quotes around the word with my fingers. "Complete with the young 'guardian angel' who couldn't sing a note—aka her daughter. Opening night was the only performance that was free of her butcher's touch."  
_ " _It certainly made the play seem a good deal less disturbing than it could have been." I could hear a certain lilt to the older woman's voice, an attempt at diplomacy. Well, fuck it, that statement wasn't diplomatic in the least.  
_ " _It was supposed to be disturbing. You were supposed to leave the theater thinking 'What if that were me? What if that were my kid?' because it was unnerving, scary even, not leave there thinking 'Geez that was weird.'" I was getting worked up, and Beck ran his hand down my leg, massaging my thigh. I knew it was meant to be soothing, but I was not in the mood to be soothed.  
_" _I wish it had been far more disturbing for the playgoers than it was." Punctuating my declaration by spearing several bits of chicken on my fork, I could hardly miss the long look Beck's parents exchanged._

The rest of the meal was only briefly peppered with small talk between Beck and his parents. I was more than enough for the adults without even trying. Sometimes more than enough for him.  
Sometimes it got lonely, as I chewed my food in silence.


	8. When Jade Became Jade

I actually hate yelling. You wouldn't know from how much I end up yelling myself. It's a vicious cycle. I get pissed off, and I start yelling, which pisses me off more, which makes me even more annoyed. Yelling means I'm not completely in control of the situation, and maybe not myself either.  
It does serve as a sort of warning for those who know me well to back off, so I suppose it's not all bad. The only thing I really like about it, though, is how it makes most people look up, truly notice me, flinch, and back off. Beck and my father are two notable exceptions.

" _Daddy, you have to help me get my Potato Patch Pal back. Mommy gave it away to some stupid orphans, but I want it back and she won't get it back for me." I frowned, tapping my little foot on the ground, my arms crossed.  
_ _My father, seated in front of his computer with both hands flying across the keyboard, barely spared a glance for his seven-year-old-daughter. "If you want something, you have to go after it yourself. Everyone in the world is looking out for number one, and usually only number one."  
_ " _But you're my Daddy. You're supposed to help me with things like this." I had already learned that this sort of guilt trip worked on Mom, and sometimes on Nanny when she wasn't preoccupied with that disgusting gurgling and vomiting being they called my baby brother.  
_ " _I'm supposed to do a lot of things, according to lots of people. That doesn't mean I'll do them."  
_ " _Daddy!" My voice rose to a shrill pitch, with a note of desperation.  
_ " _Don't yell. It means you're the underdog. You're a baby, trying to get attention. Yelling means you've already lost."  
_ _Those words dried up any beginnings of tears, and my tone was quiet as I said, "No, I haven't lost."  
_ " _That's my girl. Go on, figure out how you're going to get your doll back, and leave Daddy to work in peace."_

I hated going to the orphanage, but I hated the idea of my mother and some kids I didn't know winning this more. So I hatched a plan. My first time ever laying one out in my head. I played the role of a changed rich girl who wanted to help those poor orphans and give them more toys, new ones too. My first time ever acting as someone I wasn't. And I snatched up my Potato Patch Pal while those other kids were ripping apart the bag and shoving at each other to get the toys. My first time ever working to get what I wanted. It all felt good, right, invigorating. I suppose I should be grateful to my father.

" _Daddy, why are you leaving Mommy?" I crossed my arms, taller now, though still in the same position by his desk in his home office I always occupied when I was in there—off to the side, out of his direct line of sight, where he insisted we stay._ Children shouldn't be seen and rarely heard, seemed to be his motto.  
" _That's between me and her." He had a lot of papers spread out on his desk he seems to be concentrating on. "Divorce" stood on them, in large, bold letters.  
_ " _It doesn't have anything to do with us?" My voice was slightly hopeful._ Now I would chop my own tongue out if I ever sounded like that towards him. _"So we'll still see you?" Not that Jacob would really care, since he was still a toddler and barely saw Daddy, but I figured asking on behalf of two kids instead of one had more clout.  
_ " _I won't be fighting your mother for custody, you can be sure of that. I can live well enough with getting weekly calls from the school about you scaring or emotionally scarring the other children, and you're burden enough on your good days." The words stung, and I felt my eyes beginning to water._ He always was brutally honest. At least I could rely on that.  
 _I was old enough and well-read enough at the ripe age of eleven to know what custody meant. "So you don't care about seeing us? At all?" I was young, and dumb, and pushing, eager to have some small token of affection.  
_ _He stopped and looked at me for several seconds. This rarely happened, and I wilted under his scrutinizing gaze. "No, not really." This he said matter-of-factly, before returning his attention to those damned pieces of paper.  
_ _I lost it. "But you're my father. How can you not care about me, not even a little bit?" My voice rose in pitch as I tugged at his sleeve, desperate for him to look at me again. Maybe if he looked at me, and I stood up straight, and met his eyes instead of flinching, he'd like me again, and—I tore his sleeve, just a little, but he noticed, and looked at it, and looked at me, then swore. "Fucking bitch. This was an expensive suit. What did I tell you about disturbing me? And about crying and yelling?"  
_ _I stood stiffly, my jaw set, and stared back at him silently.  
_ " _Get out of my office, Jade Catherine West."  
_ _I turned my back on him and walked out, slowly, thinking about how I would respond._

The first thing I did after that was sign up at the kickboxing gym. The second was to tell Mom about the young blonds he had had sleep over while she was on business trips—the ones he'd tried to hide in his bedroom, as if I was blind, deaf, and stupid. She'd known about one, but hadn't realized there had been more, and flew off the handle again. It made Dad raise his voice against her, which made me grin from where I watched in the doorway.  
The third thing I did was to call Catarina Valentine, pack my bags, and sleep at her house for a week.

That was the end of any interaction with my father for a long time. Until I received my acceptance letter to Hollywood Arts High School. I figured I would surprise him at work. I figured I would see whether or not he could be proud of me, though we had already established he was unable or unwilling to like me.

" _Your father is currently meeting with his boss, Miss West. You're welcome to take a seat until he returns." My father's large-busted, platinum-blond-haired secretary was far too perky for my tastes.  
_ _I was preoccupied, though, so I just sat down in one of the black leather chairs she indicated, setting my bag down by my feet, and carefully folding and unfolding the letter I clutched in my hands as if it were a sheet of gold.  
_ _I stood again, quickly, as I spotted the man who had spawned me walking down the sleek, white-painted and chrome-plated corridor, gesturing as he conversed with the man beside him. He slowed his pace as he spotted me.  
_ " _Jade, what are you doing here?" With an insincere smile plastered on his face, he gestured between me and his boss. "Michael, this is my daughter, Jade. Jade, this is my boss, Mr. D'Alessi."  
_ _As expected of a good corporate daughter, I held out my hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. D'Alessi."  
_ _The other man grinned at my firm handshake. "I like a kid who can look me in the eye. What are you here for, kiddo?"  
_ " _Don't call me 'kiddo'. My name is Jade." I kept my tone polite, but it was still firm, the same fake smile plastered across my face as my father had._ _"I wanted to share some good news with my father. Dad," I turned to him, a tentative smile on my face, holding out that precious piece of paper, "I got accepted into Hollywood Arts."  
_ _My father opened his mouth, but his boss, the more portly and jovial of the two, beat him to it. "That's fantastic, kid-ahem, Jade." He offered his hand for me to shake again. "Only the best of the best graduate from there. You've got yourself a talented little girl here, Lucas." Mr. D'Alessi slapped him on the back. "I'll leave you two to celebrate. My congratulations!"_

 _My father laid a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it in a show of support for his boss's benefit, before using his grip on me to propel me into his office. I shrugged his hand off before he closed the door.  
_ " _I thought I had made it clear that I do not like being touched. At all." My tone wasn't so much hostile as wary, as I turned and eyed him.  
_ " _A performer, Jade? Really?" He scowled. "You've fallen prey to the hype and the smoke and mirrors? You want to get rich quick by standing up on a stage and wiggling your ass for the audience? Or crying a little bit for a camera? Acting, singing, putting on a show—all that's bullshit, and I have no respect for anyone who does that."  
_ _I simply stared at him for several moments, wearing what I'm sure was an expression of shock and dismay._

Most parents were ecstatic when their children had a shot in the entertainment business. The glamour, the money, the recognition—everyone wanted it, if not for themselves then for those close to them. Or they were at least somewhat supportive of their kids' aspirations.  
Everyone except my father, apparently. It strikes me now that I never really knew my father—I still don't actually. But that's not so much my fault now, is it?

" _No, Dad. It's not smoke and mirrors. It's art." My voice was slightly choked, and I cleared my throat, blinking several times to ensure that the tears stayed off of my cheeks.  
_ " _Art, schmart. A baby can crap on a canvas, smear it around with his butt, and someone would hang it on the wall and call it 'art' nowadays. The word means nothing. And no daughter of mine is going to devote her education to that kind of bullshit." He looked me in the eyes, accentuating that last word as he ripped my acceptance letter in two, balling it up and dropping it into his wastebasket as he walked back to sit behind his desk. "I hear that mobile development and IT is the future. You should look into that, and let me know what you find interesting. I can probably get you an internship here with our computer guys a year or two early." The remark was offhanded, his eyes already on his computer screen.  
_ _I lifted my chin, feeling my cheeks heat up with my anger and resentment. "Ripping up the letter isn't going to do anything. They've already got me marked on their lists."  
_ " _Just know I have no intention of supporting you with pipe dream of yours or this so-called school."  
_ " _Your child support checks will probably be at least partially used for tuition."  
_ " _I'm going to have words with your mother about that, don't worry." He lifted his head slightly to eye me over his computer screen.  
_ " _At least she supports me in this, so I doubt you'll get very far."  
_ " _We'll see." He returned his attention to what was presumably work. "We'll also see how long you stay at this school if you pull the same kind of shit you have at others."  
_ " _They couldn't handle me."  
_ " _And you think this school can? When no one else seems to be able to to? When you seem to revel in it?"  
_ _I hated that my voice trembled. "This conversation is over."  
_ _I saw his eyebrow arch briefly as I turned. I knew he would wince as I slammed the door behind me, though._

I think that was when I first started thinking about body ink. I wanted to mark myself on the outside, make myself different, as much as I felt marked and different and scarred on the inside.

I still tried, later, with the one play I thought was good, with the one play I thought might get to him. His admiration, that one word- _"Excellent."_ -felt fantastic, vindicating, but hollow. It didn't really change anything. By then the gouges ran too deep to be bandaged with a few words.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I feel like I have to at least mention phoenixfire44 here, as one of their comments during our brief correspondence inspired me to add some elements and think a little more about Jade's relationship with her parents.


End file.
